


just a taste and I'm lost in you

by hehatesbullies



Category: Teen Wolf (TV), The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: M/M, Minho dies in the first two paragraphs, Porn With Plot, Scott is scared, Smut, Stiles Stilinski Is Bad At Feelings, Stiles is a murderer psycho werewolf, Unfinished, multiple POV changes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-07
Updated: 2015-08-07
Packaged: 2018-04-13 11:18:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4519890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hehatesbullies/pseuds/hehatesbullies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles is bitten and freaks out, Scott doesn't know wtf to do.</p><p>Newt's best friend Minho is murdered, and he may or may not fuck his killer.</p><p>UNFINISHED</p>
            </blockquote>





	just a taste and I'm lost in you

Minho?" Newt called out, looking around his friend's apartment, expecting him to call in return from his location. When he didn't, Newt don't stress. The bugger was probably still sleeping. Newt walked through the slightly messy flat to Minho's bedroom, knocking on the door harshly. "Wake up, ya shuck-face!" Newt turned the doorknob and walked into Minho's bedroom, the sight before him filling him with pure, white hot terror. It felt like an ice cube had slid down his spine.

 

                      Minho was laying in his bed, his face caved in with blood caked around his head, splattered on the bedframe and wall. His limbs were twisted at awkward angles, like he'd been tortured in some way. Minho's torso was open, the skin peeled back like an orange, his ribcage exposed and his organs smashed into a bloody, gorey soup. It was the smell that drove Newt insane. He'd seen things like this on TV, but only in horror movies. The boy's eyes watered from the stench, and Newt pulled his shirt over his mouth and nose. 

 

                      Actual tears welled up in Newt's eyes, a sob ripping from his throat for his best friend. "Mihno," he sobbed, then he saw what was on the wall. On the wall opposite Minho's body, were Minho's bloody handprints and the words IM ALREADY GONE written in blood. Newt sobbed helplessly, dropping to his knees and sobbing until he couldn't anymore. Eventually, he called 911, even though he knew he couldn't help Minho. Newt went back to his house, sobbed and sobbed until he fell asleep, nightmares crawling into his brain like a parasite. 

 

 

                       Stiles was going insane. Well, he already was, but I mean /insane/ insane. Like murderous. He'd killed two people already, and it was all because of the bite. Scott had bitten Stiles. And now Stiles was insane. He spent nights rocking back and forth in the corner of his bedroom, the pre-full moon madness driving him to pull his hair out, nasty snarls and growls ripping from his body as he desperately tugged on the restraints Scott put on him.

 

                      Scott hadn't meant to bite Stiles, but he saved his life. So yeah. Stiles also grew more irresponsible. He slept around, fucking any hot guy with legs. Not literally, but you know what I mean. Never relationships, only one-night stands or quick fucks with Isaac in the middle of school. Messy handjobs and blowjobs, then Stiles would put his stone-cold face back on, letting the madness seep in, like water in clothes. Heavy, wet, and uncomfortable. Scott didn't want this for his friend, but he couldn't stop it. 

 

                      Tonight, Stiles went out to a gay bar that was in Beacon Hills. He ordered beer, sipping it leisurely as he eyed all the boys grinding and girls making out. Then, he spotted a boy with short blonde hair, lanky figure, and from what he could see, sparkling hazel eyes. "Oh, a pretty one." Stiles said to himself with a smirk, placing his beer on the bar and walking up behind the mystery boy. Stiles pressed himself against the boy's back, grabbing his ass in one hand and squeezing. 

 

                       A sound of surprise came from the mystery boy, and he turned his head so he was face to face (kinda) with Stiles. "Oi, what the bloody-" the boy's breath was caught in his throat as he locked eyes with Stiles. Smirking, Stiles continued to grope the stranger. "Got a name, handsome?" Stiles said seductively, his lips curling around the stranger's ear. "N-Newt. You?" 

 

                       Stiles's breath caught in his throat when he locked eyes with Newt. His eyes were a beautiful hazel, sparkling even in the dim light. "Stiles. So, Newt," Stiles groped Newt more, his eyes glinting with mischevious desire as he leaned in to press his mouth to the shell of Newt's ear, "would you like to come home with me?" 

 

                       Stiles couldn't help but breathe in Newt's scent, he smelled so good. Stiles wondered if a scent alone could trigger his heat. His smelll was so enticing, his pheromones filling Stiles's nose and the only thing on alert was the need to fuck, love, breed. I guess smell can trigger heat, Stiles though, his vision going hazy. 

 

                   Newt pushed back into Stiles's touch, and Stiles new he had the gorgeous stranger wrapped around his finger. Stiles gripped Newt around the bicep, leading him to his Jeep. "You have a Jeep?" Newt asked. "Yeah, otherwise I stole someone's car." Stiles replied, opening the passenger door for Newt with a smile.  

 

                   Stiles smiled. It surprised him. A genuine smile. An actual Stiles Stilinksi smile he only gave too Scott. What was this beautiful man doing to him? Newt laughed, his eyes crinkling at the corners and his head getting thrown back. The sight made Stiles smile, and he started up the ignition with a crooked grin on his face. 

 

 

 

                    Newt looked over at Stiles from his spot in the passenger seat, watching as he goes from smiling and happy to stone cold and sealed off in seconds. The mysterious boy enticed Newt, and he wanted to get close to him. Newt leaned closer to Stiles, able to shamelessly study his face in the bright car headlights reflecting from the window. Stiles was truly beautiful, shimmering brown eyes and smooth, pale skin that Newt wanted to feel against his own. Newt's hand subconsciously found its way onto Stiles's thigh, and Newt relished in the way Stiles's breath caught. 

 

                    Newt smirked, running his hand farther up Stiles's thigh, to his hard on. Newt could feel the heat radiating from Stiles's erection, even through his jeans. He pressed the heel of his palm to the tent in his jeans, one to his own and one to Stiles's, and palmed them both in sync. Stiles let out a gutteral moan, and his hands slipped on the wheel, almost sending them into a stop sign. Newt took his hand away from Stiles's bulge.

 

Stiles growled and Newt chuckled, palming himself and looking out the tinted windows. The scenery was beautiful, an amazing sight to behold. Not as beautiful as Stiles. God, by hell if Newt was letting this be a one night stand. No, he was going to keep Stiles. Date him, cuddle him, love him, treat him right. Then, maybe one day, propose. Newt smacks himself in the forehead, you're getting ahead of yourself, he thinks. 

 

Probably.


End file.
